


Consequence for Indifference

by Professor_Anxietree



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Has Issues, Family Feels, Gen, Good Older Sibling Leonardo (TMNT), Good Sibling Donatello, Good Sibling Raphael (TMNT), Hurt Michelangelo (TMNT), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Introspection, Michelangelo (TMNT) Hides His Feelings, Michelangelo (TMNT) Needs a Hug, Michelangelo is not okay, No Turtlecest (TMNT), POV Alternating, Protective Donatello (TMNT), Protective Leonardo (TMNT), Protective Michelangelo (TMNT), Protective Raphael (TMNT), Protective Siblings, They're all trying, but just in case, his brothers realize that, rated t because i'm anxious, the child abuse tag might be a bit of a stretch, the family brain cell is finally used
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-27 23:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30130188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Professor_Anxietree/pseuds/Professor_Anxietree
Summary: It's always been easy to dismiss the problems that they see in Mikey. Unfortunately, however simple it had seemed, ignoring a wound just lets it fester and grow, until it's too late to heal. When they start to see just how bad they've let things get, Donnie, Raph, and Leo just hope that they can still fix this.or;Mikey is not treated right by his family, and they finally realize just how bad it's gotten.
Relationships: Donatello & Michelangelo (TMNT), Leonardo & Michelangelo (TMNT), Michelangelo & Raphael (TMNT)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	Consequence for Indifference

**Author's Note:**

> So. This story is based on a scene from the 2012 series, season 4 episode 18. The scene had Donnie recognize that Mikey flinched away from his hand and pat his head instead of smacking him- but nothing else came of it. That's where this story comes in, because apparently I can't just let anything go.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

__

Consequence for Indifference,  
Pain from Complacency,  
Tears in Pattern;  
Open your eyes and Change.

__

_  
_

Donnie prided himself on his intelligence. It was easy to say he was the smartest of them. He was the inventor. The scientist. He'd never been interested in fighting as much as he was in technology, in formulas and experiments. Even if for years the only things he had to work with were cracked beakers, old, rusted tools and broken, scavenged machines that he had to figure out and fix before using, he'd always preferred using his mind above his strength.

And really, sometimes it seemed like he was the only one. While he experimented, they waited on him to finish so they could use his inventions. He'd test and create and all the while his brothers would watch TV, fight, and mess around with games. And sure, Donnie would do all those things too. He _enjoyed_ all those things. _But_ , he still also worked in his lab. Still expanded his knowledge and mental prowess. His brothers were content where they were. He never was, never had been- and he doubted he ever would be.

It was easy to think that he was the smartest, the most reliable in a situation that required quick thinking and wide branching information. The most dependable to guide them. He'd caught himself thinking even Splinter was sometimes foolish compared to him, before quickly pushing that thought out of his mind.

Leo had biases he couldn't see through. He was reckless where Karai was concerned, and he didn't _think_ when he thought he could just _do_ , his determination to succeed blinding him. He was stubborn, slow to change opinions. Flaws in the team were flaws in _others_ , not him. His view turned out, seeing blame hard and fast but to turn it _inwards_ was a challenging path.

It was easy for Donnie to think he was better. Obviously _he_ thought things through. Obviously _he_ had an open mind. He could be objective and see where he had fair blame.  
Raph was a hot-blooded, stubborn and reckless kind of fool. Quick to fury. He had no time to be _rational_ if his anger rose- which it very often did. He was even slower to change his opinions than Leo was, and he was blinded where family was concerned. He saw flaws and turned them inside, holding the blame tight right where it could hurt him most, but he lashed out like it was the fault of others just the same.

And it was just so _easy_ to think Donnie was smarter than that. He was calm. He thought things through. He could assign himself blame and not lash out. He could accept things and move on.

Mikey was a… _special_ case. He was upbeat and foolhardy. He _never_ thought things through until he was staring up at death's door. He was loud and obnoxious, his head seemingly scrambled in every direction. He was too trusting, too bright, and too reckless. He was lucky, Donnie supposed, when perfecting the retro-mutagen or restoring Donnie's slowly fading intellect, but that was all it was. _Luck._

Donnie didn't rely on luck. He worked and he learned and _clearly_ , he was better than Mikey by far. He wasn't naive, he wasn't reckless. He planned and carefully examined every situation. _Clearly,_ he would often think, _he was better._

But now, Donnie had to wonder if he wasn't the most foolish of them all. The most blind.

It had started when Raph left (for the _twenty seventh time,_ that is), and Mikey had actually asked if a _foible_ was the thing in the back of your throat, and it was just so _stupid_ in the face of Raph's anger and Splinter's disappointment, not to mention Donnie's own shame and irritation at having pushed Raph farther than necessary, and- and it was just second nature, to give a clipped, sharp response and to raise his hand to smack Mikey upside the head.

What Donnie hadn't expected was the way Mikey _flinched._ The way his eyes widened, then shut so tightly that _Donnie's_ vision blurred as Mikey's body tensed and jerked away, not enough to _avoid_ a strike, but enough that Donnie was suddenly, _horribly_ aware that Mikey was scared. _Terrified_.

And just like that, Donnie's annoyance evaporated like the morning mist. He patted Mikey's head instead, not knowing what else to do, with his hand still raised the way it was, and Mikey jumped at first, before relaxing, looking up at him with wide eyed _confusion_. He was _confused,_ because Donnie hadn't struck him. Or- or it was the pat on the head. That _was_ definitely odd in this circumstance. That's what Donnie told himself. That's what he reassured himself was _definitely_ what Mikey was confused about, _unsure about,_ in the situation, even as he couldn't help but frown.

"...You okay?" he found himself asking, and he hadn't thought it possible that Mikey could look anymore unsure, any more surprised, but he _did_.

"Fine," was the hesitant answer.

Any other conversation they could have had was swept aside by the Mighty Mutanimals stumbling into the Lair, telling a tale of anti-mutant weapons and villains taking control of the city once again. So, Donnie put Mikey's reaction out of his mind. It wasn't important. Not now. So, he just didn't think about it. Or, he _tried_ not to.

But after that… it was hard not to look for signs.

Mikey seemed… fine. Most of the time, at least. But it was the subtle, split second reactions that sent alarm bells ringing in Donnie's mind. One second Mikey would be alright, practically bouncing off the walls, but then Leo would raise a hand for a high five and for just a _moment_ Donnie thought he could see a flash of _fear_ in Mikey's face, a pause in his movement, almost like a _glitch_ as he seemed to jerk back into motion just a moment later, returning the high five after just a seconds pause.

Splinter would address him, and Mikey would jump and fidget, his gaze more on Splinter's staff than it was on his face. Raph would put a hand on his shoulder and he would _flinch_ at the contact, before latching onto Raph in a hug that would only be begrudgingly accepted.

It all left a dark, twisting feeling in Donnie's stomach. He'd seen this all before, of course, but he hadn't truly _noticed_ it until now. Hadn't given it more than a passing glance. He'd played off the flinches as jumps and twitches, his fidgeting hands and feet as an unwillingness to sit still. He hadn't really _cared_ to think anything more of it, honestly. Mikey was Mikey, and Mikey was weird. There hadn't been a need for a better explanation. He was twitchy and energetic and couldn't stay still. That's just how it _was,_ how it had been for as long as Donnie could remember. Except… now he was looking closer.

 _Now_ he could see the fear, the resignation. The anxiety at unwarned contact, the way he tensed up and leaned away at sudden, close movement. And Donnie _still_ put off asking about it, still put off making a conclusion because he didn't really _want_ an answer to this question. That is, until he noticed worse.

Because when an _enemy_ raised their hands, or reached for him, or tried to hit him… Mikey didn't react. Oh, he'd dodge, he'd taunt them, he'd grin as they missed… But he _never_ flinched. He never jerked away from Rahzar's claws or a footbots sword. He was _calm_ on the battlefield. But whenever he was with _them_ , his _family,_ Donnie could now see a- a _wall,_ anxiety given form, like- like he never knew whether to expect a hand to help him to his feet or a fist to knock him down.

Mikey was _scared_. He was scared _of them_. There was resignation there, when Splinter raised his staff to knock them down, or when Raph turned on him with anger burning in his eyes and fists raised, he was also _resigned_ \- he knew what to expect, was _used to it_ , but he was also _scared,_ and-

The next time Raph moved to hit him, Donnie caught his wrist. He hadn't been planning on it, hadn't really even thought about it, but he did. Raph froze in surprise, and Mikey- Mikey peered up at Donnie in shock, eyes widening with disbelief.

"That's _enough,_ Raph," Donnie said firmly. Raph pulled his arm from Donnie's grip and scowled, but he just walked away, grumbling. And suddenly, Donnie was nearly knocked over as Mikey hugged him, his surprise almost causing them both to topple to the ground.

Donnie didn't mention that even now Mikey nearly flinched away as he returned the hug. He didn't bring up the event at all.

He just made sure to get in the way if Raph or Leo moved to hit him, and held his own anger back as best as he could. And if the way Mikey looked surprised every time, or looked at him with wide, awestruck eyes as if Donnie was a _hero_ every time he broke up a fight left guilt settling in Donnie's lungs or made him feel like a fraud, repairing a shattered window that _he'd_ broken, only to receive thanks for fixing it as he hid the hammer behind his back, he ignored it. He didn't mention it.

He just diverted misplaced anger and blame from Mikey to the ones deserving, and shielded him as best he could. And he hoped that someday, he could reach out, and Mikey could take his hand without fear.

Leo wanted nothing more than to be a good leader. He was the one that Splinter chose - even if it _was_ only because he'd _asked first_ \- and the last thing Leo would do is disappoint him. He wanted to be _like_ Splinter- to always have an answer, to be strong, capable, someone people listened to not because they _had_ to, but because they _wanted to._

He wanted to be the best, because if he _wasn't_ then he'd drag the whole team down with him. It had happened often enough. So he had to be brave, thoughtful, strong, capable- he _had_ to be. He was the only option they even _had_ as a leader anymore.

Raph had proven time and time again that he was too reckless, too prone to anger. He'd get himself killed in a heartbeat if he wasn't held back by the need to look out for others- and that really _was_ his only thread for self-preservation sometimes, the knowledge that if he fell his brothers might get hurt. He froze up if his plans caused them harm, he shut down or was blinded by rage or _both_ if it looked like they looked like they might not make it. Raph said himself that he could throw his life away in a second and be satisfied, but that he _couldn't_ make that call for anyone else.

So Leo was the better choice. He was more rational. He could work through the weight and pain of unintentionally causing harm to his brothers through his plans, could formulate an attack that didn't only put _himself_ in harm's way. Raph didn't even _want_ the leadership position anymore after just a _day_ of being in charge, but _Leo_ had held it since the beginning and he was _still here_. So he had to be the leader. Raph couldn't take that burden from him.

Donnie would have been Leo's second choice, after himself. He was smart and responsible, able to connect dots and make plans. But Donnie was near the opposite of Raph in the way that he _wouldn't_ put himself in danger- which usually wouldn't be a problem, if not for the fact that his unwillingness to sacrifice had led to more failings than Leo cared to recall. Donnie relied too much on technology. He could plan, could think quickly, but he was _too_ reliant on it. If he had an invention he thought would work, he'd throw everything else away for a chance to use it. They knew from experience that that led toward loss and pain more often than it did success.

Leo could think fast and plan well, could risk it all or risk nothing depending on what he believed and _knew_ would work. He could sacrifice his safety if he had too, didn't do so needlessly. Donnie didn't want to lead, and he wasn't fit for it. So Leo _had_ to be the leader.

And Mikey was the most obviously unfit to lead. He was too carefree and too trusting. Too slow thinking and foolhardy. He rarely saw problems and practically never saw solutions. His head was too scattered, thoughts jumping from focus to focus, never settled long enough to plan. Mikey was lucky, in Dimension X- though it was possible it was less of luck, and he was just far better equipped to deal with it than they were. The place just _clicked_ with him in a way it didn't for the rest of them, and so (against Leo's wishes) he would take command there, but even then he was prone to leaving them behind, or not _explaining_ what he knew because he thought it was clear enough that they'd already understand it.

So Leo was the _only_ choice for leader. But he was starting to think that that didn't mean he was a _good_ leader. He tried. He tried so _hard_ to be the best he could. But _trying_ didn't mean you wouldn't _fail_.

He'd never noticed before, didn't _realize_. He should have. If Leo was serious about leading this team, if he really _cared_ about his brothers, then he should have seen it. But he _hadn't_. Because he hadn't bothered to look.

Part of being a leader, he'd learned, was that a team was a machine and the people were pieces, each with their own abilities, desires, needs and contributions, and it was _Leo's_ job to balance that machine, to let each piece do its work but never overshadow any other. Keep Raph's anger at bay and keep Donnie from locking himself in his lab too long, but also let Raph vent and utilize that anger and let Donnie work- or else they'd both topple. And so Leo did his best to _balance_. But he'd never given thought to _Mikey's_ place in their machine.

Mikey was just so _easy_ to overlook; He was so _loud_ that it was easy not to listen, so _cheerful_ it was easy to discount his feelings, so _difficult_ to handle that it was easy to ignore him instead. Leo hadn't even realized that he was doing it- hadn't realized that they were _all_ doing it.

Because part of _balance_ was giving everyone a _voice_. Letting them advise him and help with plans and bring concerns to light. But, aside from when Mikey took control in Dimension X, he didn't _have_ a voice. His suggestions were discounted, automatically not worth thinking over because it was hard to think he had something useful to say amidst his ramblings. His plans were automatically ridiculous. His concerns were because he misunderstood, or he was seeing problems that weren't there, and they just didn't have the _time_ to bother with that, not when people were in danger and their enemies were on the move.

But… Leo was starting to see just how _imbalanced_ that had made things. It was simple, really, when he noticed. Mikey just _wasn't_ talking. That was all. They were discussing a mission to infiltrate one last gang lair that was using anti-mutant weapons, and Leo, for whatever reason, was suddenly aware that Mikey wasn't helping.

Really, he only _actually_ noticed it when Raph left to get Chompy (and they all pretended not to hear the alarm on his phone telling him it was time to feed Chompy, because he'd sooner break their hands than admit he was doing everything he could to be a good caretaker and they'd all rather avoid that). Suddenly, in the comparative quiet, Leo became aware that now only _Donnie_ was giving him advice. Mikey was silent, staring intently at the pieces on the table, at the markers representing them and the enemy. His eyes flicked across the board, as if rearranging the pieces in his head, but he stayed quiet, watching. Leo couldn't help but be annoyed. If he had something to say, or an idea for the plan, then why wasn't he _saying_ anything?

"Mikey," Leo said, and he looked up, surprised. "Do you have an idea?"

"I-I…" Mikey hesitated, looking between the two of them. "Kinda?"

"Then the floor is yours," Leo said, waving a hand at the table. Donnie scoffed softly, and Mikey twitched, looking at the ground. But he _did_ start talking. And slowly, his voice grew in confidence.

If Leo was being honest, he was half prepared to use this as an opportunity to clear his mind and let Mikey talk, not really listening to whatever nonsense he was saying, but- but he _did_ listen. And… it made sense. There were holes in the plan, and uncertainties - a _lot_ of uncertainties, actually - but for the most part it was cohesive. There was a lot of it that might work, if they just ironed it out. Just as Mikey went to move the board pieces, though, Raph walked back in.

"Oh, are we done?" he asked. Mikey fell silent immediately. "Are we playing a game with the planning board now- and if so, wanna fill me in on the rules?"

Donnie glanced up at Raph, before looking back to the table. "Mikey was explaining an idea he had. For the attack." he explained. The barest touch of annoyance colored his tone, likely due to the interruption.

Leo noticed Donnie had become more and more interested in the plan the longer Mikey had spoken, probably seeing the same thing Leo had. The idea had merit. Mikey had taken into account what they'd been discussing earlier, and added to it in a way that made all the fragments come together- though, with a few pieces still missing. It was a surprise, to be sure, but both Leo and Donnie had heard it firsthand, had seen the plan come together. _Raph_ hadn't seen that.

"Mikey? _Planning_ something?" he asked incredulously. "Did I step into an alternate reality by mistake?"

And… Mikey said nothing. No defense. No comeback. He just said absolutely _nothing_. Leo frowned.

"This is an open discussion, Raph," he said, "and that means _everyone_ gets to contribute."

Mikey glanced up. Raph raised an eyebrow, but he didn't object, just reclaimed his seat and listened as Donnie re-explained the basic idea of the plan. But Leo didn't really listen to that. He just watched Mikey, who, for the rest of the meeting, didn't say a word.

From then on, Leo noticed it more and more. The way Mikey froze up and stopped talking at a single word or even just a glare. Even if he was talking a mile a minute, not even taking in his surroundings, all it took was a glance at Donnie's annoyed expression, or Raph flicking his forehead, and suddenly he was quiet. Dead silent.

He didn't chip in on planning sessions, he didn't ask for clarification even when he was _clearly_ confused. He didn't come rambling about comics or talking about their space adventures or about how amazing Ice Cream Kitty was (something that had gotten more and more common while they were in space, but looking back, Leo realized that those conversations had suddenly just _stopped_ at some point on the journey). He still rambled when Donnie experimented and allowed Mikey to sit in, at least, but it was clear to Leo that Mikey _knew_ Donnie wasn't listening. And with one sigh, Donnie could silence Mikey's ramblings on the off chance that he _was_ listening and got annoyed at the constant noise.

Leo… wasn't sure what to do. Mikey was just… getting quieter. It was clearly in response to their anger or annoyance, but- had they cut him off so much that he was prepared to fall silent at the slightest sign? _...Yes,_ he decided, because they'd been doing it for _years_.

But finding the cause didn't always give you the solution. He wasn't sure what to do or how to fix it or- or anything, really. And then Mikey made a comment, after snapping Raph out of a-a panic attack? Hallucination? _That's what I bring to the team,_ he'd said. _Sanity_.

And that had been ridiculous. The last thing Mikey brought was sanity. He was wild, unpredictable. He was loud and obnoxious and- And it was then that Leo realized that he had _no idea_ of Mikey's role in their team.

Leo led and directed. Donnie planned and invented. Raph fought and pushed them to get better. And Mikey… he was there too. Because not only had Leo neglected to give him a _voice_ in their team, he'd left him without a _role_.

So he watched, and he waited. And the next time they were planning, he asked for Mikey's opinion. What he got at first was surprised stuttering, but in the end Mikey asked questions they hadn't thought of, voiced concerns they hadn't realized. _This_ is why every person on the team needed to have a part in their meetings. Every one of them was going to see something no-one else did. That's just the way it was.

But that didn't seem to do as much as Leo hoped. No matter how many planning sessions and training exercises Mikey participated in, he still wasn't… open. And that was fine- really, it was! Donnie kept to himself more often than not, and Raph wasn't the most talkative type, and that was fine. If Mikey didn't want to speak, then he didn't have to. That was the end of it. But-but his silence just didn't seem to be out of actual _unwillingness_ or a _lack_ of desire. It was more like… Mikey was afraid.

And Leo didn't know _how_ to make him _stop being scared of them_. But…

"Hey, Mikey," Leo said suddenly, turning to face him. Mikey had been silently rolling dice with Ice Cream Kitty, seeing who could get the highest numbers, but he looked up, tilting his head.

"Yeah?"

"Have you been reading any comics lately?" Leo asked. Mikey hesitated, glancing at the floor before looking back up at him, shoulders hunched.

"Uh, yes?" he said, but it sounded more like a question. But he'd answered, and he'd been reading. _Good,_ Leo thought.

"Tell me about them," he said. "If- if you want to."

Mikey blinked, tilting his head again and frowning. "You… you want to know about Deep Space Alien Invaders From The Deep?"

"If you want to tell me," Leo said honestly. He didn't actually care much about _what_ Mikey talked about, as long as he _wanted_ to and he was _talking_.

And Mikey _did_ start talking. It was hesitant and lilting, at first, with plenty of pauses and backtracks. A jumbled mess of uncertainty. But the more he spoke, the more cohesive it became. Mikey's voice gained strength and volume, he started motioning with his hands, and soon enough, Mikey was alight with a bright energy as he gave voice to each character, waving his hands around and just _talking_ with an obvious joy that almost _hurt_ to see. Because this - this light, this clear enjoyment and happiness - had been silenced for so long. Mikey… Mikey _needed_ to talk, Leo realized.

It shouldn't have been a new revelation. He was loud and spoke too much over every little thing, but Leo was starting to realize just how _important_ that was. Raph wasn't a talkative person, and Donnie preferred the quiet, Leo didn't care much either way. But _Mikey_ was different.

Leo should have it noticed before. If Mikey was quiet for too long, Leo had started to see that it took an actual _toll_ on him. He'd get fidgety and anxious, was more prone to mood swings and withdrew from the rest of them. It was like talking was a coping mechanism, or an outlet for feelings otherwise left ravaging his head, or- or- well, Leo didn't actually _know_ , but he knew it was important. And they'd been taking that away from him.

After a while, Donnie walked into the room, a mug of something steaming in his hands and an air of exhaustion surrounding him. It was almost a shock to see him out of the lab, with how long he'd been holed up in it (despite both Leo and Mikey's best efforts to draw him out of it). Donnie took in the scene, took a sip of his drink, and then sat down next to Leo.

Mikey's voice faltered, and he glanced at Leo as if asking if he could continue, or if he should stop. Leo just nodded and smiled, and after a moment's hesitation, Mikey kept talking.

Raph came in a minute later, scowling and basically just being himself, and collapsed down onto the couch beside Donnie (who _hissed_ at him when the action caused some of _whatever_ he was drinking to spill). Leo held his breath, preparing himself to hold Raph's anger away from them, and Mikey stopped completely, hands frozen in the air and his shoulders stiff. But Raph just waved a hand in a _keep going_ gesture, and once again the room filled with the sound of an actually very well explained rundown of the comics. Some parts even seemed… _rehearsed._ As if Mikey had been wanting and waiting to share this with them, going over certain points in preparation for a conversation that would likely never happen.

And it _was_ a conversation that would be hard pressed to find a place, most of the time. But now, Raph relaxed listening to the story, anger draining away into a mild interest. Donnie's grip on his mug softened, and the furrow in his brow faded. Mikey was all high energy and rapid fire emotions, but just sitting to listen… it was calming. Maybe there _was_ some truth to Mikey's claim. He didn't bring _sanity,_ really, but he did offer a… reprieve, with jokes and joy and, somehow, a _calmness_ in the face of the world falling apart around them.

Maybe _that's_ what he offered the team, Leo thought. Maybe that was his role. To hold them together when everything was threatening to tear them apart.

From then on, Leo would just let Mikey talk. About his day, about Ice Cream Kitty, about missions and plans and mindless tv. And after a while, even when Mikey was silent, he seemed… brighter. Lighter. Like a weight had lifted from him. And Leo hoped, that in time, Mikey would once again be able to speak without hesitation. And when that time came, Leo would be there to listen.

Raph knew he had a temper. He knew because everyone told him, knew because he could feel the fire under his skin, itching and burning and lashing out at anything that _dared_ set him off and make that flame rise higher. He knew he wasn't the most understanding person, knew he didn't have the most patience, and wasn't the most familiar with listening or comforting.

He knew he wasn't the _only_ one with a temper, though, just the most easy to make snap. He knew he wasn't the only one that covered up discomfort with fury and fear with rage, wasn't the only one who reached for what should be joy only to find disappointment dark and ashy in his hands. But he also knew that he was the worst of them. The others were calmer in their anger, softer in their burning.

The others would respond to his anger without fail, though, tempers rising and burning and sparking until they became wildfires, screaming to be heard over the roar of the blaze and lashing out in a bid to be the first to put a fire out with someone else's blood, to make the hazy red around their vision fit into a scene that was otherwise peaceful.

But while Raph was the fire-starter nine times out of ten, he was never the one who stomped their fire out and offered a hand in peace.

He didn't… click, with empathy. He didn't understand feelings. He barely had a grasp on his own, barely sorted through even a _fraction_ of what he felt, so how on earth was he supposed to comfort others dealing with their own problems? It was easier if he just _didn't._

Leo could listen. He could listen and give advice, and offer comfort. He could sit still in silence until someone cried themselves out or felt better. He understood remorse and mistakes and failure. Understood pride and accomplishment, the rise and fall and getting up again and again.

Donnie could offer solutions and plans, could give remedies and support. He could distract someone with lights and colors and machines designed to calm and tailored to a specific person or problem. He understood loss and desperation, understood victory and contentment, shame and hope.

Even Mikey could provide distractions, could listen just long enough to understand the problem and then take your mind off of it with jokes and games and a dozen other mindless things. He knew just how to take your focus away from whatever was bothering you and turn it towards something lighter and easier to handle.

Raph didn't. He _couldn't_. Because Raph dealt more in anger than he did understanding, knew more of rage than he did calm; He clicked with extremes of fire and ice and burning and _breaking_ , not softness or patience or peace. And that was fine, usually.

But he was beginning to think that he'd slipped too far, ash sliding under his feet until he was lower than he'd ever been, grabbing at everything around him and dragging them down with him until they all suffocated on the cinders and snapped and burned again. He was starting to think he'd let himself fall into a pattern, a pattern of fire, smoke and charred wood, scars that never really healed.

It was Mikey, oddly enough, that started those thoughts. Raph had noticed the warning signs in Mikey's behavior long after they'd been put up, but he saw them now. He had watched the others, after he'd noticed, watched them closely just to be certain there was no sign of it in them. There wasn't. It was _only_ Mikey, and perhaps that made it worse.

Raph had been seething, bitter anger curled in his chest like a snarling beast, breathing smoke into cinder-scarred lungs and rattling a harsh rhythm into his heart until everything he said came out sharp and heated, harsh and clouded over in a thick smog of fury. They'd lost another fight - _another one,_ because it was always _new_ mutants, _new_ weapons, _new_ people trying to _kill them_ and control the city _and they had **gotten away** after **hurting** Raph's **brothers** and-_ \- and the defeat was dark, bitter and looming even hours after it had happened.

And Mikey was anxious, fidgeting and glancing at him and always edging away when Raph stepped past some invisible line, and- it was just _too much_ for the fuming monster in him to take.

" _What?_ " he snapped, turning on Mikey as his younger brother shot him another look. Mikey flinched, shrinking away as if Raph _was_ the beast, and that just made the embers flare _brighter_ , because he hadn't _meant_ to scare him.

"I-I just- I-" Mikey stammered, taking a step back. "I just- are you okay?"

The words were soft, uncertain, as if expecting a backlash in the face of _suggesting_ that Raph _wasn't okay_ , and the beast _snapped,_ because why was he so _afraid?_ But the rest of him just felt cold. A wash of ice water had swept through him, muddying the coal and dousing the flames, freezing in the spaces between his bones. Because… because he just realized that Mikey really _was_ afraid. He had been casting glances at Raph because he had been _worried_ about him, but he hadn't even dared _ask_ because- Mikey was scared of him.

"Fine," Raph forced out the word, and Mikey frowned, but didn't say anything else. Raph didn't see him for the rest of the day.

So he watched. He watched for signs, and there were more red flags and warning chimes than Raph could believe he'd ever missed- but, he hadn't _really_ missed them. _Dismissed_ them was more accurate. Because he _had_ seen it. He just hadn't put it together until now.

Each of them had a temper, they all had a threshold for annoyance and irritation. Mikey, though, had always been the most difficult to really set off. His anger wasn't something Raph was ever concerned about, because it simply _wasn't there_ until you pushed far, _far_ farther than they ever really did. But… it was looking more and more like Mikey was actually _afraid_ of them. He never fought back, rarely raised his voice. And before, Raph would have chalked it up to him just not getting angry, but-

He shrunk from raised voices. Danced around them in a careful, practiced way when their nerves were frayed. If things were getting bad - patience worn and words lashing and fists raising - he would disappear. Vanish without a trace and then return after the tensions faded. And he was always worried, but he rarely truly _asked_ after them (though he _had_ before, and Raph couldn't even pinpoint the moment when he'd _stopped_ ), and the only reason Raph could figure for that was that he was too _afraid_ to. Afraid to ask after them because- because-

And that was the worst part. Because he might be _right_ to be scared. Because even _now_ Raph was worried, yes, worried and wanting to go make sure Mikey was really, actually alright, but- but he _knew_ those words would catch in his throat, become ash on his tongue. He knew he'd end up demanding answers to questions more accusing than kind. He knew. _Knew_ , because it had happened before. Worry meant _vulnerable_ , and one wrong move would set the fires alight.

So he just… waited. And it got _worse_.

Because after failure - a mission gone wrong, a slight divergence in a plan, a misstep in training - Mikey was shaky and twitchy and never got closer than two feet to anyone except Ice Cream Kitty- and _Chompy_ , for some reason. After arguments, involving him or not, he was avoidant. And yet, he was _always_ in high spirits. Ready with deflections and jokes and smiles, and if Raph wasn't watching for it, he wouldn't even have noticed the way his voice was just a touch to light, and his smile a bit too strained.

Because during _all of this_ , going back to when they first reached space, the worst mood Raph had witnessed Mikey in was when they were _mourning Splinter._ Something they'd mostly pushed away just days after, because they had _traveled back through time,_ and they had bigger problems to deal with. Or, no, actually.

After that, there had been the planet of the Aeons. Raph didn't like thinking back on it, on the dark, twisting anger that seeped from the air into his mind, so familiar and yet, so very _different_. Cruel, uncaring _hatred_ pushing them to fight each other. Even so… there was a bigger reason Raph didn't think about it. Because- because he hadn't really done anything he wouldn't otherwise have done. He'd chosen to lash out at his brothers, and he _knew_ he would have done so even without the hatred that the planet fed him clouding his thoughts. He still would have fought with Leo, would have still _had_ to fight the monsters there to stop himself from hurting his brothers, still- still would have _nearly killed Mikey_. The planet had just given him its anger; He'd made the choices. Choices he _should_ be more adept at avoiding by now, but he had done it nonetheless.

But that _awful_ planet was also the only other real time in all of space (and getting home) that Mikey hadn't been _positive_. Because he'd taken his new, Aeon given rage, had embraced it just the same as the rest of them had, and- and all he had done was yell. That was all. He'd just glared, stomped a foot, and he had _yelled._ Told them to _stop,_ that he was tired of them picking on him, tired of their insults-

And he'd never finished, because Leo cut him off, and none of them had cared to listen anyway. And Mikey didn't even try to continue, not even with what Raph _knew_ to be dark, seething _hatred_ burning in his veins.

And that was all he'd done. Oh, he'd fought back when Raph attacked him. But that was all it was. _Self defense_ \- something Raph was realizing Mikey was severely _lacking_ in. And then he'd channeled his rage, and told _them_ to channel theirs, into fighting the monsters, into saving that _cursed planet_ out of sheer _spite_ , and after that, Mikey hadn't seemed to even _feel_ the anger that infected them. He'd just been… himself. Hadn't snapped. Hadn't yelled.

It took a place practically _made_ of hatred for Mikey to stand up for himself, and even then, he'd stopped. Been _interrupted,_ yes, but he _had_ stopped, hadn't vied for attention or brought it up again. And as soon as they had an outlet - fighting aliens - _Mikey_ had gone back to normal, while all of _them_ still struggled.

 _That,_ inconsequential as it seemed, stood out to Raph like a bonfire against a blackened sky. So. Watching. Waiting. Trying to figure out what on _Earth_ and all other stupid, _useless planets_ was going on with his brother without _losing it_ and driving a wedge further between them. And there _was_ a wedge there, a chasm widening with every flare of flame and every flash of fear.

And then Raph noticed something new. Or, not _new_ , really. It was more that he saw something in a new light. Because Mikey _didn't_ get mad. He didn't get frustrated. At the very _most_ he was annoyed. But he also didn't get disappointed. Didn't get offended, or sad. Didn't cry or yell or _anything_ besides smile, and laugh, and joke, and looking at that _now_ made Raph's stomach churn because it was _fake_. Plastic smiles and boxed laughter and there was always, always, _always_ something deeper - something _darker_ \- that was _crumbling_ in his eyes and then he'd blink and it was gone.

Raph knew about suppressing emotions. He'd tried it, once, twice, a dozen times, and it hadn't _worked._ He'd clamped down on his anger and his fear and it had turned _inward,_ tearing at his chest in a furious struggle to find release or kill him in the process. Disappointment turned icy and jagged and dripped down his throat into his stomach, too full with that twisting feeling for food. Sadness steeped and grew fuzzy with no source, but kept on welling up from a fountain of dizzying thoughts and a thousand tiny failures, all sharp and cutting deeper and deeper the longer he held them down. It was like trying not to drown by keeping yourself under the surface. His own anger twisted around to tear at his lungs, curling up in a spiny, dark _pit_ that it clawed out for itself.

It was a slow, drawn out death of charred bones and ash blocking your throat, of keeping your hands clamped around a hornets nest, buzzing and stinging and trying to force their way free. Eventually it hollowed you out, a mess of _emotion_ with no _mind,_ and either it would drown you, or you finally let it free.

He'd quit the team, the first few times bottling it all up didn't work. He'd known he'd come back, but he had _needed_ to get away, just until he was some semblance of a whole, and he was sure that old scars wouldn't tear the hate from his chest to the outside now that he was too weak to force it down. (Had he really left twenty seven times? If he reached thirty and still came back, he'd have to get the others something to make up for it. Or maybe they should get _him_ something for continuing to deal with them…)

So Raph knew about repressing emotion. And looking at the ever present _light_ Mikey had wrapped himself in made him feel sick, because he could _see_ now, the terror and anger and _frustration and panic and-_ and every single writhing, dark feeling bound up and hidden behind a pair of overly bright, blue eyes.

 _How_ had Mikey built up a disguise so seamless when Raph couldn't? How did he act so _happy_ and _carefree_ all the time? He was going to slip eventually. He was going to snap. Raph… didn't want to see that happen. How long had Mikey been hiding his feelings like this? Would his breakdown be an explosion or a cave in? How much longer could this go on before something _breaks?_

Not long, apparently.

There didn't seem to be anything much different about today than any other. April and Casey would be coming down to the Lair at three o'clock, as usual. They had patrol tonight, and judging from the radio silence from their many, _many_ adversaries, something was going to happen soon (silence _never_ lasted long), but that was ordinary. They were training with Splinter like they did every Wednesday when Raph noticed it.

Because the _only_ thing different about today than any other stupid, monotonous day, _was_ actually Mikey. They were sparring- or, actually, right now it was just Donnie and Mikey that were fighting. And _Mikey_ was _off_. He wasn't the best fighter among them- though Raph would reluctantly admit that he _was_ the best of them while they were in Dimension X, but that didn't _count_ (they just hadn't had the time to adjust to that places weird physics, was all), and if you had Mikey listen to music and drown out his surroundings, he somehow got _better_ at evading attacks, to the point of being _scarily_ good, but that wasn't the _point_. The _point_ was that Mikey was doing worse than he usually did.

His footwork was atrocious, his attacks were clumsy, and he rarely managed to dodge. But he _never stayed down_. Raph didn't even know what was driving him anymore; He wavered on his feet and favored one leg, but he _kept going_. And Splinter didn't call an end to the fight.

Donnie clearly didn't want to keep going, kept hesitating, and _that_ might be the only reason the fight was still going at all.

At least, until Mikey got knocked down again. And this time, he didn't get up. He just stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily. Donnie glanced at Splinter, who held up a hand to stay the match. Donnie slumped in relief, and crossed the room to sit next to Leo.

Splinter stood, stepping over to Mikey and offering a hand to help him up. Raph frowned at the visible twitch - flinch? - that ran through him before he accepted Splinter's help. Judging from Splinter's expression, he'd seen it too.

"Michelangelo," Splinter began, "are you alright?"

"Fine," came the obvious lie. Mikey's voice was scratchy, wavered just slightly, lingered to long on just one word. Raph realized then that he had barely heard a word from Mikey this morning, not when he hesitantly - _hesitantly_ \- offered their breakfast, shoulders tense and hands slightly shaky (and the food had been slightly burned, but Raph didn't know why that would cause such a big reaction- or, actually, maybe he _did,_ because there was no way Mikey was going to last much longer like this without _some_ kind of fallout). Not when Splinter assigned their sparring partners. Not even when they'd somehow found themselves in a discussion about _Crognard_ before training started.

Leo had seemed worried all day. Donnie was hesitant to fight. Mikey- Mikey's eyes were shining, overly bright and tinged red, like he was about to cry. He didn't though. He was just standing there, blinking too much and standing stiffly. Somehow the fact that he wasn't smiling, wasn't wearing his mask quite as well, was a relief.

Splinter was frowning.

"Your performance suggests otherwise," he said. Mikey's hands twitched, fingers spasming, before they stilled. His eyes were wide, staring glassily at the wall behind Splinter. "If there is something troubling you, my son-"

"I-I'm _fine,_ " Mikey protested. "Just- just-" his breath caught, and his gaze flicked between each of them rapidly. "Do the next match."

Splinter reached out, placing a hand on Mikey's shoulder, and Mikey flinched back, stumbling in his haste to move, almost falling again as he put all his weight on his injured leg. And then, without another word, he was gone, fleeing the room and leaving them all reeling in his wake.

Raph was on his feet before the thought to follow even occurred to him. But he _was_ going to follow. No doubt about that. He was almost to the door before a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Raphael," Splinter said, and if Raph had _ever_ heard him hesitate, it was now. "...Just, don't act rashly."

Ah. So Splinter knew he wouldn't be able to stop him from going then. "Hai, Sensei."

And then Raph ran to follow Mikey. Out the dojo's door, he'd only seen a glimpse of his brother, but he hadn't seemed to be running to his room, and there wasn't any reason that he'd go to Donnie's lab, so he headed out to the sewers. He wasn't sure just how he was going to find Mikey yet, but-

There was a choked shout, a strangled _yell_ , that echoed through the sewer in a thousand shards of a single sound. It didn't even take a second for him to place it as Mikey's voice. Raph darted down a side tunnel, following the echoes. Finally - not far from home, actually, but it felt far _farther_ than it really was - he rounded a corner and saw Mikey sitting at the end of the tunnel.

His breath came in gasping rattles, and he was huddled up in a tight ball, barely taking up any space at all. Raph hesitated.

"...Mikey?" he asked. Mikey jumped, then looked up. His eyes still had the glassy, far away look from earlier, and his mask was gone, the band of cloth instead clenched tightly in one fist. And… as far as Raph knew, this was the first time Mikey hadn't been wearing it in public for a long time. Donnie took his off during some experiments, usually just to replace it with safety gear. Goodness knew Raph didn't always wear his. Even _Leo,_ stickler for rules as he was, took his off on slow days when they were just sitting around. But it had been a long time since Raph had seen Mikey's face uncovered by that orange fabric, long enough that it took a second for it to register.

Mikey looked… tired. Dark circles lined his eyes, now uncovered and on display. His eyes seemed hollow, red and glazed but not wet, no tears falling even though Mikey looked like he wanted nothing more than to cry. At least, he did for a second. Just one, _single_ moment, and then the walls snapped back up.

Mikey scrambled to his feet, hurriedly tying his mask back over his face and grinning. The bandana hid the shadows under his eyes, and his smile was all bright energy and exited light. The only sign of his earlier devastation was the redness of his eyes, and the way his hands were shaking.

"Raph!" he exclaimed, voice overly cheery, a bit too high and a touch too light. "W-what are you-"

" _Don't_ ," Raph interrupted. Mikey faltered, grin slipping slightly before it returned in full force.

"What do you mean?"

"You _know_ what I mean," Raph said. "You don't _have_ to pretend that you're fine. It's _obvious_ that you aren't."

Mikey tilted his head, face scrunching up in confusion. "I-"

" _No,_ " Raph hissed. Really, Mikey was good at pretending. Too good. He'd had too much time to practice. " _Look at yourself._ You're going to fall apart because you won't give yourself enough time to actually _feel_. You know how much crap we go through? If you don't let yourself _cope_ with that-"

"I'm _fine_ ," Mikey snapped, voice cracking. When he spoke next, there was something wavering in his voice, fragile as glass. "Did you find me just to lecture me?"

"I came because you're obviously _not okay!_ "

"But I- I _will be_ ," Mikey said, voice softening and losing its brittleness. He slumped against one wall, exhaustion overtaking him. Still, he smiled. "I just have to calm down. It's no problem. Just didn't sleep well, so I'm tired- and you know everything is harder to handle when you're tired. I'm- I'll _be_ fine."

"...No," Raph said. "You aren't. And the longer you just hold it back, the more it will build, and the worse it will get."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience," Mikey said, something _calculating_ in his gaze for just a _second_ before worry replaced it. "Are _you_ okay?"

Raph blinked, surprised. How had Mikey turned this back on _him?_ "Yeah," he said. "Fine. But that's because I _stopped_ forcing everything out."

"But-"

"No, Mikey," Raph said, doing his best to soften his voice. It didn't do much. "I know- I _know_ that this might seem- _better?_ But it _isn't._ Not long term. And that's for _everyone._ It's not that it doesn't work for me but will for you. Donnie's backed that up- talk to him if you want, he has evidence and science stuff proving it.

"Even if it's working now, which it _obviously isn't,_ it's going to backfire later."

Mikey looked down, blinking rapidly but showing no other sign of- well. Of feeling _anything._ Raph sighed, and stepped up to stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder. Maybe this would be better. Maybe if they didn't look at each other, if they talked to the _air_ and not another _person,_ it would be easier.

"Look," Raph said, and this time he'd managed to sound at least somewhat gentle- no small feat, considering the writhing feeling in his stomach. He didn't _like_ talking about this. Didn't like feeling vulnerable. "I've done the same thing. We probably don't have the same _reasons_ for it, but it's all the same principles. There's something you don't _want_ to feel, something you think you _shouldn't_ feel, something-" he waved a hand, letting the gesture fill in the blank, "-and to combat whatever that is… you clamp down on it. You don't show it, don't even give yourself time to _feel_ it if you can help it.

"But that's the _problem,_ " he continued. "Because you bottle it up and it _stays._ This isn't a _fix_ , it's a _delay_. And the more you push down, the more you try to contain and push aside, the worse it will get. It just grows, and festers, and eats away at you from the inside out until-" he stopped, forcing himself to take a breath. "Until you can't possibly keep it in anymore. And it will either destroy you, or destroy everyone around you."

The quiet rang loud in the aftermath of his words. It was a silent, gnawing void. A stillness, a peace, that had no place here- but would swallow them up anyway, if given the chance.

"...I j-just…" Mikey's voice was quiet, wavering, catching and breaking. Raph glanced at him, but said nothing. Words were tricky, especially ones like this. If they were going to be said at all, it wouldn't be from further pushing for an answer. "I can't."

And that seemed to be all. Mikey seemed to be waiting for a response now, tense and staring across the sewer, not even glancing at Raph.

"Why not?" Raph asked- and wasn't _that_ the question… Mikey, though, blinked, head jerking up as if he hadn't expected it. As if he'd expected some other response- perhaps one born of frustration or anger, or perhaps for Raph to give up, but… Mikey didn't seem to have expected Raph to ask him _why,_ even after that admission.

"If- if I-" Mikey swallowed, hands clenched into trembling fists. "You're all… important. But you're all- all…" he shook his head, apparently not having the right words. Raph bit his tongue, digging his nails into his palms. Now wasn't the time to snap- even if Mikey hadn't included himself as being _important_. "I need to- to be able to _help,_ a-and if I- if I break down, and-" he swallowed again. This was slow. It was a wavering response only tentative in it's answer. Raph wanted to say something, _anything,_ to get Mikey to just _talk faster,_ but he knew that doing something like that would only make him _stop._

"I won't be _able_ to help you." Mikey whispered. "If _I_ get sad, I can't cheer up Leo. If _I_ get angry, I can't calm you down. If _I_ get annoyed, I can't distract Donnie. If I get _scared_ I can't fight, if I get _overwhelmed_ , I can't cook, if I-" he broke off into shuddering gasps, clutching at his arms, sliding down the wall until he was sitting down, curled up into a ball.

Something cold washed over Raph, dousing him in fear and something unsettlingly like guilt. He stared down at Mikey, who, even trembling and gasping as he was, had yet to shed a single tear. And that was the thing, wasn't it? Raph couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Mikey actually cry. Even when Splinter _died,_ he- he…

He hadn't let himself grieve, even _then,_ and it hit Raph now that the _one_ person aboard that stupid ship who had seemed _fine_ the whole way through had been Mikey, even when they _and_ the Fugitoid were on the verge of crumbling. Because he was the one who was always asking after _them,_ who talked to them and made them laugh even in their fear and grief, who offered movie nights and jokes and distractions, hugs and extra blankets he said he didn't need, who made _their_ favorites with the Fugitoid's mind reading food machine whenever they forgot to eat and always made sure they ate it at some point. Because- because Mikey was _determined_ to be a support structure, to carry weight he seldom even let himself _acknowledge,_ and-

And it was a _miracle_ that he hadn't destroyed himself by now.

It was a miracle made even more unexplainable because this had been building for _months_ , maybe _years_ , because he was always the last one to cry and the last one to admit hopelessness, the last one to let them fight on their own and the last one who _ever_ got to just _be himself_ because that was all that he had _needed_ to be. And they all took that willingness to help, to heal, to lift them up and- and it was a wonder, then, how Mikey had ever managed to keep _them_ from destroying him, let alone keeping his own heart and mind in check. How _brittle_ must _his_ support structure be? Goodness knew he didn't have any of them, even Splinter was always busy or meditating. How could he keep standing built on such a crumbling foundation?

Raph sat down next him, words lost in the storm of realizations. This _one_ admission from Mikey, the honest answer, given at last, had swept up anything he could say and left him voiceless, hollowing out his chest as it went until he just felt… cold. Empty. And… if he had to be honest, he felt sad. Maybe even- maybe even _scared_.

"That-" Raph hesitated, because words had never been his strength and comforting was never in his power- he was too blunt and too jagged to ever try his hand at it before, but- but he couldn't stand this painful silence, this quiet, soft void of nothing and stillness that pricked at his skin like claws and needles.

"That isn't fair." he ended up saying. Mikey blinked, fingers twitching, but he gave no other response. "That isn't _fair,_ " Raph repeated. "Not to you. How can you expect to help us if you collapse under the weight- weight we _never_ asked you to take from us? How is it fair to expect you to always be happy, and ready to help? _How_ is that _fair_ to you?"

"I- ...I _want_ to help," Mikey whispered.

"And we _need_ it," Raph agreed. "We _all_ do, including _you_. But do you really think doing this to yourself will _help?_ How will you help when you fall apart? When do _you_ get to be helped? When do you get to be a _person_ instead of an empty _machine_ ready to follow orders and make food and give everyone except for _yourself_ time to _heal_ and be _okay?_

"You put all this focus on us," Raph continued, "but that means that _no-one_ is focusing on _you_. This is going to _hurt you-_ it's _already_ hurting you, and you expect it to be _okay?_ No! No, that's not how this _works._ "

"You don't want to deal with me," Mikey mumbled. It sounded _rehearsed_. "It's better if-"

" _No,_ " Raph snarled, turning to face him, not caring anymore if his voice was too harsh or if he seemed too angry. He _was_ angry. No point in hiding that. " _No,_ that is not how this _works._ You think I _want_ to deal with Donnie when he's pulled three all-nighters, running on who _knows_ how much sugar, and snapping at anything even remotely _close_ to bothering him? You think I _want_ to deal with Leo when he's having nightmares, and is convinced Splinter's still gone? You think _they_ want to deal with _me_ when I leave the team and then scream at them for making sure I'm okay?

" _No!_ We don't want to handle each other's feelings because we have enough of them on our own. We have seen so much crap that we'd fuel enough nightmares for the whole city," he jabbed a finger into Mikey's chest, who flinched back, eyes wide. "But _guess what?_ Even with all that, do you know what we do? We _deal with each other anyway._ Because even when we don't want to, deep down, we _do._ We help each other, we _deal_ with each other, because we want to even when we'd rather do _anything else!_

"So _don't_ tell me that we _don't want to deal with you,_ " Raph snarled, and his eyes stung, something wet dripping down his face, and it took a second for it to register as _tears_. "Because I _swear_ that if _you_ needed help, if you were sad, or angry, or even just scared of a mission, that _helping you_ would become our top priority! And maybe we've been bad at it- maybe we've been _awful._ But you can't really tell me that we'd rather see you _shatter yourself_ , to see you _break apart,_ then to _help you_ on a bad day, or let you relax when you can't take this anymore!"

Mikey was staring at him, eyes wide and glassy, breath shuddering. He was _shaking._ Raph's anger snuffed out immediately, leaving him cold. Maybe he'd gone too far this time. Maybe he shouldn't have-

Mikey hugged him.

Raph jumped, not expecting the sudden embrace, before awkwardly returning it. It was only a moment later that Raph heard Mikey sob, a strangled, choked sound, and realized that the dam had broken, and that Mikey had finally, _finally_ let himself cry.

Raph sighed, letting his brother bury his face in his shoulder as if trying to hide even now. He had the feeling they might be here for a while…

But when they got back, Mikey stumbling half asleep behind him, worn out from days of unrest and the show of emotion, the air felt lighter. Clearer. Donnie and Leo had, under Splinter's supervision, made lunch (however late it was it notwithstanding), which was, as all food they tried to make, not the most appealing, but Splinter's presence had indeed made it edible.

Mikey was quiet through the meal, but his silence seemed to be more from exhaustion than anything else. Afterwards, they all sat down together and watched old episodes of Super Robo Mecha Force Five. The others seemed to sense the fragile air around Mikey now, and even when Casey and April arrived, the day passed quietly.

As worried as Raph was, worried that Mikey might discount what he'd said, or still refuse to open up, or get worse- Mikey listened. To some extent, at least.

Occasionally, he would knock on Raph's door, late at night, anxious and worried after a nightmare, and he would actually _talk._ (Apparently, no matter how much Mikey did honestly enjoy Dimension X, his time there hadn't all been fun and games. Monsters, new laws of nature, Kraang at every turn, and the endless _loneliness_ of it all had taken their toll. Adding that to everything else they'd been through...)

Sometimes he let it show when he was frustrated or annoyed- and Raph managed to get Mikey to actually, earnestly _figh_ t him (an exercise to direct and rid yourself of anger that worked time and time again) and Raph still didn't know if it had been a fun experience or if _he'd_ have nightmares, because he'd never seen Mikey that _furious_ before. It would have been hilarious if it hadn't been terrifying.

But however much he opened up about his negative feelings, he was still just… Mikey. Loud, obnoxious, full of life and light and laughter. Bright grins and jokes, but now made all the lighter with the lack of any shadows behind them. And yes, sometimes he still hid what he felt. Raph could see it, he could tell, and whenever that happened he would find Mikey, and they would talk about some mindless distraction until Mikey was ready to open up, or the feelings had passed on their own.

And Raph hoped that some day, Mikey could be fully honest. That he wouldn't live with the doubt of being worth anyone's time. He hoped that, in time, Mikey would heal, and move on with a smile that hid nothing. And when that time came, Raph would be there, and return that smile with his own.

__

_Healing Takes Time,  
Healing Takes Care,  
And Often Enough,  
You Stop For Fear.  
Joy Takes Pain,  
Joy Takes Work,  
And Often Enough,  
You Feel Rage Lurk.  
Healing Takes Time.  
Joy Takes Care.  
And Sometimes, Love,  
Someone Will Help You There._


End file.
